


melt your headaches, call it home

by masterassassin



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, Sickfic, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7248448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterassassin/pseuds/masterassassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dallon's not actually sick.<br/>He calls Brendon anyway.</p><p>[now translated into <a href="https://ficbook.net/readfic/4766328">Russian</a>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	melt your headaches, call it home

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote half of this through tears for Anton Yelchin. Rest in peace.  
> I really hope I don't make this a habit but I think in times like these we can all need a little fluff.
> 
> I need to apologize for the title once more. It's too dramatic. Ryden fans don't kill me please.

Dallon felt a little guilty for resorting to such desperate measures, but he just couldn’t help himself anymore. He knew he was fucked, he never planned on falling in love. Not this quickly, not this hard, and not with Brendon. Especially not with Brendon. Seeing as they worked together and all. But he was undeniably and head over heels gone for the guy. And even that had been new to him. Falling for a dude. Sure, he’d had his fair share of crushes but never more and he got over them quickly. And at first he’d thought it was gonna be like this as well. That he’d just been impressed by Brendon’s talent, how he was on stage, his natural charm. A tiny bit of jealousy paired with what he didn’t want to call hero worship. And not to forget his looks.  
But as weeks turned into months and it just got worse Dallon had to eventually admit to at least himself that he was in deep, way too deep. By now he craved being close to Brendon and feeling his touch on his skin so much he almost ached with it. And sometimes he literally did, biting his lip hard to muffle his moans as he jerked off desperately with nothing but Brendon on his mind. He’d never come harder or quicker in his life.

And now here he was, phone in hand and about to call Brendon’s number. Feeling incredibly stupid and pathetic.  
He almost didn’t do it, but then he thought of Brendon’s expressive eyes and how they shined in the sunlight, about his soft smile and the way the corner of his mouth would quirk up. He dialed Brendon’s number.

“Hey Dal, what’s up?” Brendon answered, voice cheerful.

Dallon swallowed. “Uh, hi B uhm,” he cleared his throat, “I am not feeling too well and I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”  
Dallon tried to make his voice sound hoarse and tired and he seemed to be convincing enough.

“Damn, you really don’t sound good. What’s up, what do you need?” Brendon actually sounded a little concerned and Dallon felt bad.

He was just about to tell Brendon that he was fine, that he could deal with it but then Brendon spoke up again.  
“Hey, listen I’m going to come over. I’ll stop by a store just tell me what you need, okay?”

His voice was so soft and it made Dallon feel almost as weak as he pretended to be.  
“I- not much. Maybe some chicken broth or something? It’s just a stomach ache and I feel a little faint…” he trailed off.

“Yeah, yeah okay I got you. I’ll be over in half an hour or something. Just lie down, okay. I’ll be right over.”

“Thanks a lot, B.”

Dallon put his phone down and took a deep breath. He really did feel guilty for doing it but the way Brendon responded and how quick he was to come over and help Dallon made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe he didn’t even have to pretend to have a fluttery stomach.  
Dallon sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, then he went to fetch a blanket and lay down on his living room couch.

Thirty-five minutes later the doorbell rang and Dallon all but jumped to his feet, blanket wrapped tightly around himself. Then he remembered he needed to look a little out of it and slowed down, running a hand through his hair to make it stick up like he’d just slept.  
He opened the door, standing a little hunched over and with one arm wrapped over his stomach. He blinked at Brendon.

“Hey, Dal.” He said softly with a small smile. “I brought you some stuff.” He raised his hand holding a white plastic bag.  
Dallon’s heart clenched and he stepped aside to let Brendon in. Brendon closed the door after himself and turned around, putting his hand on Dallon’s shoulder before smoothing it down his upper arm. His eyes were gentle and Dallon caught himself staring. He coughed.

“Let me take care of you for a bit, alright?”  
Dallon nodded and let himself be led over to his living room. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, not at all. Just go and lie down for a bit. I’ll heat up some broth.”

Dallon did as he was told and listened to Brendon in the kitchen, the clanking of pots and him humming some tune. It felt so domestic and Dallon squeezed his eyes shut. Oh, how he wished he could have this.

“Hey sit up, hm?” Came Brendon’s voice suddenly and Dallon found he’d actually nodded off for a few minutes. He pushed himself into a sitting position and moved his blanket out of the way a bit for Brendon to sit next to him. He grabbed the offered spoon, leaning over to dip it into the broth. It was pretty decent.

Brendon reached for the remote and turned on the TV, lowering the volume.  
“You don’t mind?” he asked and Dallon shook his head.

“No, please be my guest.”

Brendon tugged the blanket loose from under Dallon’s ass and pulled it over his lap, leaning against Dallon’s side.  
“How are you feeling?” he asked as Dallon sat back after finishing the broth.

“Better,” Dallon said and it was true. Not that he had felt particularly bad before though.

Brendon snaked his hand behind Dallon’s back and wrapped his arm loosely around his middle, pulling Dallon in a bit.  
“You should rest some more.”

Dallon hummed, butterflies in his stomach. Brendon’s hand on his side felt like it was burning a hole through his shirt. He tipped his head to the side, resting it on Brendon’s shoulder.  
“Thank you for this. I bet you have better things to do.”

“I really don’t,” Brendon mumbled, cheek against Dallon’s hair. He stroked lightly up and down his side. Dallon sighed.

They silently watched TV for a while until Dallon shifted because his leg was about to fall asleep. Brendon looked up.  
“How’s your stomach?”

Dallon’s hand flew up to hover over his abdomen.  
“Still a bit queasy I guess.” He pulled a face, he’d almost forgotten he was supposed to be sick. Brendon mustered him with sympathy, then he got up.

“Stay here,” he said and disappeared into the kitchen again. Dallon heard him rummaging around and a few minutes later Brendon emerged back, holding a small bowl and a hot water bottle.  
Dallon wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve Brendon as a friend.

Brendon handed Dallon the water bottle and set the bowl down on the table where Dallon could now see that it was filled with applesauce. Brendon took a cushion and propped it up against the couch arm, then he motioned for Dallon to lean down against it.  
Dallon did as he was told and placed the hot water bottle over his stomach, taking the applesauce bowl as Brendon handed it to him.

“What am I? Five?” Dallon chuckled.

“Hey, it’s a home remedy. Nothing better than applesauce for an upset stomach. And don’t tell me you don’t like it.”

Dallon smiled affectionately and began spooning the fruity mush into his mouth. Brendon shuffled closer to him on the couch, lifted Dallon’s legs and put them on his lap. He began firmly rubbing along the arch of Dallon’s left foot, massaging the skin with caterpillar like motions. Dallon’s toes curled and he hummed in pleasure.

“My mom used to do this when I was little. It always made me feel better.” Brendon was looking down at his bare feet, small smile playing at his lips making the skin around his eyes crinkle and Dallon couldn’t stop staring. The sun reflected off Brendon’s hair, turning it chestnut brown.

Dallon was so focused on Brendon he missed his mouth with the spoon and a bit of applesauce dribbled down his chin. Much to his chagrin Brendon noticed and Dallon’s felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“You sure eat like a five year old,” Brendon laughed and leaned over to wipe the stuff off Dallon’s chin with his thumb. He then proceeded to lick his finger clean. Dallon’s heart hammered in his chest.

“Do I need to feed you?” Brendon asked mockingly as he started to rub over Dallon’s foot again and Dallon shook his head not unlike a moping pre-schooler and finished his applesauce. They continued watching TV in comfortable silence.  
Brendon’s fingers on Dallon’s feet stopped moving and after a while Dallon looked up to see Brendon blinking sleepily. He seemed to have real trouble keeping his eyes open and then he actually nodded off, head tipping forward before he woke up again with a jolt.

“You look very tired,” Dallon stated matter of factly and nudged Brendon’s thigh with his toe. Brendon shook his head a little and turned towards Dallon.

“Yeah I-, sorry. I didn’t get that much sleep last night.” He shrugged.

“You should catch up on that then. You can go sleep in my bed if that’s okay with you. The guest room isn’t made.” The thought of having Brendon’s smell clinging to his sheets the next time he went to sleep made something bubble up in Dallon’s chest. He couldn’t help feeling a bit creepy though.

Brendon scratched the side of his neck, obviously contemplating the offer.  
“I’m supposed to take care of you, not the other way round. But God, I’m sorry I am so goddamn tired.”

“Please just go to sleep, I’ll be fine.” Dallon tried to sound as reassuring as he could. Damn, he wasn’t even sick and now he was keeping Brendon from getting some rest with his pathetic bullshit.

“You could come with me, I don’t mind. You should sleep some as well.” Brendon’s gaze was on the floor as he said it, toe drawing circles onto the hardwood floor.

Dallon exhaled slowly, trying to calm the butterflies in his gut. He was royally fucked.  
“I don’t mind,” he muttered quietly, “you’re probably right.”

Brendon beamed at him and slid out from under Dallon’s legs. He stood up and reached a hand out for Dallon to grab. The now cooled water bottle slipped to the ground but Brendon was quick to pick it up.  
“You should go and get comfortable. I’ll just fill this up once more.”

Dallon couldn’t help it when he dropped his head down onto Brendon’s shoulder, nuzzling his nose against soft cotton.  
“You’re too good to me.” Brendon huffed out a surprised laugh and ruffled Dallon’s hair.

“Just doing my job.” With that he pushed Dallon’s towards his bedroom.

Dallon made a quick detour to the bathroom and then went to lie down. He sighed as he rolled over on the sheets, pondering. _Just doing my job._  
A minute later, though, Brendon opened the door, clearing Dallon’s thoughts. Brendon dropped the newly heated up water bottle onto the bed and just stood there looking at Dallon sheepishly.

“Could i just borrow a shirt or something? I can sleep in my briefs. I mean, if that’s fine with you,” Dallon nodded at a loss of words, “but not gonna lie, it’s rather chilly in here.” As if to emphasize his words Brendon shivered a little, rubbing his hands over his arms.

“Oh yeah, sorry. Of course.” Dallon got up and went over to his wardrobe. He’d gotten used to sleeping in a cooled down room, but apparently Brendon wasn’t.  
He sorted through a bunch of clothes and eventually pulled out a thin sweater, throwing in at Brendon who just about caught it on a sleeve.

“Thanks.” And Brendon started taking off his shirt, simply discarding it on the floor. Dallon didn’t even pretend he wasn’t staring. The moment was over too soon, though, when Brendon pulled the sweater over his head and emerged with his hair in beautiful disarray. He slumped down on the bed after taking off his jeans as well and Dallon followed suit.

Brendon had his head pressed into the pillow and inhaled deeply before turning to lie on his side, facing Dallon who’d curled around the warmth of the bottle.  
“You smell really nice,” Brendon said, quietly, his voice a little rough around the edges with sleepiness. Dallon was sure Brendon could hear his heartbeat.

Brendon brought a hand up to rub at his eyes. Dallon’s sweater was so big on Brendon that the sleeves reached down to the mid of his hands. It was too endearing for Dallon to simply swallow down.  
“You should wear my clothes more often. I like it,” he confessed. It was a bold move but Brendon’s teeth dug into his bottom lip slightly as he rewarded Dallon with a blinding smile. The intimacy of the moment made Dallon feel completely at home and to imagine it being that way all the time made his chest ache.

Brendon moved closer to Dallon, slinging one arm over his waist and resting the other against Dallon’s stomach underneath the water bottle, trailing circles and patterns with his fingers. Dallon pressed his face into the crook of Brendon’s neck, exhaling a stuttering breath. Brendon tilted his head to give him more space. His foot bumped against Dallon’s shin and he wrapped it around his calf. Dallon moved his head and saw how Brendon breathed out and closed his eyes, corners of his mouth quirked up.

Dallon stayed like that for what felt like a long time.

When he was just about to drift off, he pressed his lips against the skin of Brendon’s neck and mumbled, “I’m not actually feeling sick.”

Brendon sighed and moved even closer.  
“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> now with a little sequel [in exchange for your time i give you this smile](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7971649)


End file.
